


Jekyll and Hyde AU

by djinmer4



Category: The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Jekyll and Hyde
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 11:38:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17425178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djinmer4/pseuds/djinmer4
Summary: Originally started back in October 2018.





	1. According to Plan

“Mother?  What if I don’t like him?”  Lady Teresa Pryde sighed and put down the brush she was using to comb her daughter’s hair.  She swiveled the chair until Kitty was facing her.

“I’m afraid if that’s the case you’ll just have to make the best of a bad situation.  The real problem might be that he doesn’t like you.  Your father and I had to start looking for suitors very early for you because you don’t have anything except the title, the mortgaged estate, and your face.”

“And there are plenty of prettier faces to be had out there without the estate.  Or the marriage.”  Count Carmen Pryde did love his daughter, but he’d never sugar-coated things for her.  “I suspect Dr. Darkholme only approached us because we’re literally right here.  Fortunately, if the two of you don’t get along, it’s early enough that we can continue searching for another.  And nothing’s been posted yet so it won’t harm your reputation.”

“What’s he like?”

“Older than you.  Past thirty, although I suppose he was building his fortune when he was younger.”

Kitty shivered.  Past thirty?  More than twice her age then.

“His appearance is … unconventional.  Don’t let him see that it disturbs you.”

“Dear, what do you mean unconventional?  He’s not  . . . deformed, is he?”  Teresa may be selling her daughter, but there were limits.

“He seems healthy and active enough.  I’m sure it will be fine.”  Carmen got up and left.  Teresa also stood but first looked Kitty over.  “You’re a little too rosy but we can’t afford the consequences of cosmetics so it will have to do.  At least your hair is an appealing chestnut color and your curls are natural.”  Teresa turned to her daughter’s maid.  “Cinch the corset an inch tighter than usual, and tuck the top of the skirt in an inch to raise the bottom.  She must be appealing but the methods have to be subtle.”

With that, Lady Pryde left the room while Kitty endured another round of corset tightening.

* * *

Normally, it would be expected that Dr. Darkholme would present himself to the Prydes.  Given the circumstances, the family accepted the tactful invitation to his house instead.  They still took the carriage across the square.

The butler who answered the door was surprisingly ugly.  While physical appearance didn’t count as much for butlers as it did for footmen, it still was an issue.  It was an even bigger surprise, given that the house was amazingly decorated and meticulously maintained.  You would have expected Darkholme’s butler to have been chosen with the same care.

“Y’all have been expected.  The Master will be with you shortly.”  And American at that.

Dr. Darkholme entered the parlor, accompanied by a red-headed woman.  To describe his appearance as unconventional was to state that the Atlantic was a small pond.  He was covered in indigo fur, emphasized by the white lab coat and had glowing, blood-red eyes, one of which had a red scar over it.  Distantly, Kitty registered his relatively short height, broad shoulders, black curls, and a hooked nose.  But neither her nor her mother could stop staring at his face.  Count Pryde greeted him enthusiastically, giving the other man a hearty handshake.  When he drew back, Kitty noticed her father wince and shake his hand out.  Then he turned to make the introductions.

“My dear, Dr. Kurt Darkholme, a tenured professor at Queen Mary’s.”  Her mother extended her hand, a stiff smile frozen on her face.  The doctor bowed politely over it.  Then Count Pryde turned to his daughter.  “Dr. Darkholme, this is my daughter Katherine.”

For a second, the man froze in place.  Then the woman elbowed him sharply and hissed, “Smile!”  The resultant rictus exposed sharp fangs and looked so unnatural that Kitty thought his face would creak.  She quickly dropped herself into a neat curtsy, using the time to settle her face in a smiling mask.  The man took her hand (he only had three fingers?) but then raised the other to cup her chin and turn her face from side to side.  “Carmen you old windbag.  She’s far prettier than you had me believe.  Healthier too.  Do you ride, Lady Katherine?”

Teresa’s sharp gasp and the red-head woman’s sigh had him remembering his manners.  He stopped touching her face and instead dropped a kiss to her hand.  “ _Enchante, mademoiselle_.”

 _“Un honneur de vous rencontrer, monsieur.“_ She said and inwardly winced at how simpering she sounded.  “And I’m afraid I’m not fond of horses.”  The old nag they used for the carriage was all they had.  “I do enjoy taking walks though.”

“ _Gut, gut_.  Exercise is very important for your health.”

“Dr. Darkholme’s from Bavaria,” said Carmen.

“Oh, that explains everything,” replied Teresa.  “I was wondering about, well ….”

The doctor tactfully misinterpreted Lady Pryde’s statement.  “ _Entschuldige meine unhöflichkeit._ This is  _meine schwester_  Anne-Marie Lebeau.  She is interested in meeting my intended and will be acting as the chaperone during the engagement.”

“Oh!  You look nothing alike.”  Kitty’s mother kept the smile on her face, but the young girl could tell she was still suspicious.

“Marie takes after our mother.  Now then, shall we get down to business?” asked the Doctor.  “You have looked over the terms?”

“Yes, they’re acceptable.”

“So I was thinking a very short engagement, maybe two months-”

“What nonsense is this?” fired off Teresa.  “Surely you don’t mean to damage our daughter’s reputation in this fashion?”

An awkward pause followed.  “I will be guided by you on this.  How long would you deem acceptable?”

“A courtship of at least a year, followed by an engagement of the same length.”

“I’ve waited this long to marry, I suppose two more years means little.”  There was a bit more discussion on what would be acceptable, but to Kitty’s eyes it might as well have been signed and sealed then.

Apparently, her parents thought differently.  Back in the carriage, her mother leaned over.  “It’s not a perfect solution but it is a stop gap to our creditors.  And it will give us a year to see if we can find someone more suitable for you, darling.”

* * *

Later that night, the two siblings plus the butler had gathered to discuss the meeting.  “Two years, brother.  About what we expected.  Although what was with that line about marrying in two months?”

“A nice bit of misdirection on my part,  _Iche denke_.  If they think I’m that eager, they’ll accept the bare minimum waiting period.  On the other hand, if I’d offered that immediately, they might have suggested pushing it off further to give her time to grow up.  Then used the courting period to back out of the deal and find a better offer for her.  You saw how uncomfortable the mother was with the arrangement.”

“And you certainly did come across as eager.”  Here in the cellars, Wade Wilson was an equal partner in the Darkholme crime syndicate.  “Really Kurt, kissing her hand and forgetting yourself like that?”

“This plan will be much easier if she’s happy.  And unlike some of our clients, we’re not intending to screw her over.”

“Friendship and amiability are fine.  But she’s sharper than she looks,” warned Anne-Marie, who had spent most of the subsequent discussions and tea conversing with his prospective bride.  “And I’m afraid she’s not likely to be one of those who’ll fall in love with whoever her parents tell her to without a qualm.  She’ll break your heart if you fall in love.”

“Well, perhaps I can fix that.”  The two of them stared at the older man.  “There’s a little something some of my clients use when they desperately need to go somewhere and not be caught.  A little tweaking and I think I could create someone she’d be more inclined to.”

“Kurt,” whispered Anne-Marie.

“I’m not suicidal,  _meine süße schwester._ But we all know that Kurt Darkholme’s been attracting a bit too much attention from the authorities.”  He raised a hand to the red scar on his face, which had put an end to any missions that required subterfuge.  “If I can perfect this formula, then voila.  Darkholme has an untimely death, then his cousin, who incidentally has a clean background, steps in to marry and protect the unfortunate widow and inherits his wealth.  All this  _without_  having to actually die.  I could continue to take missions and work for the syndicate during my ‘business’ trips.  I could take even more missions since I’d have an impeccable alibi.”

“I suppose it’s worth a shot,” said Wade.  “But let’s be very careful and thorough in testing your new formula.  We don’t want to turn into one of those stupid Gothic sensationalist dime novels that everyone and their fish-monger are reading now.”  Wade turned towards the reader.  “Clumsy foreshadowing there, author.  Very clumsy.”

“Who are you talking to?” asked Kurt with a confused expression on his face.


	2. The Hours

_Takes place over a year._

_10 AM_

“The formula has been refined and our results,” Red eyes glanced over the caged cats, dogs, and other testing animals.  “Are now consistent.  All that remains is the final test.”

“You sure this is a good idea?”

“I’ve done my best.  The materials are pure, the formula written down thrice to ensure no errors.  No harm has come to the users of the cruder serum, and the animals we’ve tried the newer on seem fine.”  Indigo lips turned downward.  “I might ask that the effects last longer, but for a first test, the duration will be sufficient.  The doors are locked, you have the medical implements should the serum prove insalubrious and the shackles should the inclination prove incorrect.  What else could possibly go wrong?”

Dr. Darkholme was faced away from Wade but he was sure the other man was rolling his eyes.  “’What else could possibly go wrong?’ he says.  Murphy hasn’t even been born yet and you’re taunting him.”

“Wade, sometimes I wonder if you should be in an insane asylum.”

“Who’d dispose of the bodies if I wasn’t here?”

“Point for your side.”  One three-fingered hand raised the test tube in a mocking toast.  “ _Prost_.”

* * *

_11 AM_

“You do not attend church?”

The sneer that crossed Dr. Darkholme’s face caused the other members of the party to draw back a little.  “I see little reason to waste my time propitiating a God we never see yet never fails to side with the ruling authorities for some reason.”

Matt Murdock, an American lawyer who had been invited as another novelty guest (the good doctor was the other), took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “Do you simply not believe in God or are you certain God doesn’t exist?”

“Absolutely certain.  The Greeks and Romans, they saw gods in everything.  In the flash of lightning, the plagues that swept through the cities, the stars in the sky.  Now we know that lightning is merely the attraction of electricity between the sky and the ground, disease is caused by miniature organisms that are everywhere and the stars are simply giant balls of incandescent gas.  Religion is merely superstition with an army and a navy and detrimental to the progress of any great nation.”

“I’ve heard others express their doubts but never so passionately,” said Murdock.  “Surely you do not think such wonders of the world could be created by mere chance?”

“What does chance have anything to do with it?  Have you read Darwin’s  _On the Origin of Species_?  How each finch changes with from island to island to best suit the circumstances?  No hand of God can be seen there.”

The lawyer changed tactics.  “Perhaps not God, but surely you could see the advantages of joining a congregation?  Admittedly there aren’t many Lutheran-”

“I’m from Bavaria, not Saxony.  If I were to attend a church, it would be Roman Catholic, not Lutheran.”

“Still, surely you will not argue that religion, any religion is better than none?  Without the Church, where would the poor and downtrodden go for succor?  Without religion, how would we know what is moral and right?”

“Without religion, the Crusades would never have happened.  There would be no Spanish Inquisition, no  _auto-da-fe._ As for helping the poor, too often the Church has merely been another player in the game for power and wealth.  If anything, the clergy is more hypocritical than the average, espousing protection for their congregations, while lining their own pockets to seek higher seats.”  The Doctor paused, then bared his fangs.  “As for morality, you apparently have an even lower opinion of humanity than I do, to believe that men would devolve into anarchy and chaos without some outside intervention.”

“I do pro bono work occasionally.  There’s nothing more awful than the savagery man can inflict upon other men.”

“And I’m a doctor.  You may think you’ve seen the worst-”

“I’m blind.”

“But you haven’t been the one to take care of those ills from the start.  I’ve seen them, still torn and bloody, or dead and on the slab.  And yet I still believe Man can choose to rise above the savage ape freely, without being cozened by a Heavenly bribe or threatened by fiery Eternity.  So tell me, Murdock, which of us has greater faith?”

* * *

_12 PM_

The Prydes were not social (they couldn’t afford to be) but even they acknowledged the need to occasionally go out.  Especially since they needed to make the courtship look natural.  So while Fox-hunting wasn’t any idea of theirs for a good time, when Dr. Darkholme extended an invitation to join a local hunt, they gritted their teeth collectively and went.  Fortunately for Countess Teresa and Lady Katherine, they could excuse themselves from the actual hunt by claiming some ‘delicacy of the nerves’, sparing themselves some expense and bother.  Poor Count Carmen had to attend and was not at all easy in the saddle.

The Doctor, on the other hand, was quite an enthusiastic rider, and this time took the honor of the kill.  When the huntsmen rode back he proudly displayed the bush to those who had stayed at the Xavier manse or who had fallen back during the chase.  “By God Kurt,” Brian Braddock clouted the Bavarian on the back.  “You went after that thing like you wanted to sink your own teeth into it.”

The smile that he received looked more natural than the one Kitty had, if no more pleasant.  “Ach, I’ve always had a fondness for fresh air and riding always gets my blood up.  Perhaps I was a little over enthusiastic.”

Teresa kept a firm grip on Kitty’s arm (although thankfully not digging her nails in the way she saw some other mothers doing to their daughters).  “Let him come to us.  Make it look like your waiting for your father.” she hissed.

Kitty took the hint and kept her eyes focused in the distance.  The slightly abstracted look was a good cover for her and her mother to scope out the competition.  After all, just because there was an agreement between her father and Dr. Darkholme, didn’t mean anything had been signed yet.  He could still change his mind.

And, she realized, there were plenty of people who would try that.  She was surprised just how many heads turned when he passed to clean up.  More than a few ladies were eying him, and probably not for the considerable fortune.  Strange, she had been so concerned with his age and temperament, Kitty had never really considered whether the good doctor was attractive or not.  From the subtle looks he was getting from behind fans, he more than met a few ladies standards.

She held her fan open in her left hand.  After a second, it occurred to her that Darkholme may not have known what the gesture meant in England.  Fortunately, he did know the meaning (or else they were simply lucky) and meandered over where they were.  “Ah, Countess Pryde, delightful to see you again.  I saw your husband on my way back; unfortunately, his horse had thrown a shoe so it will be quite sometime before he returns.”

Teresa inclined her head gently.  “Was he unhurt?”

“He was fine.  Dr. Essex was accompanying him back.”

Kitty copied her mother’s gesture.  “Thank you for the update, Dr. Darkholme.”

“My pleasure,  _fraulein_.”  For a second he looked like he might have said something else.  Kitty forestalled him by shutting her fan and twirling it.  Darkholme made no sign but continued inside.

A week later she received an unsigned package with the fox brush inside, preserved into a good luck charm.

* * *

_1 PM_

_(A/N: The most famous Bavarian composer I found was Strauss, who would either be a baby or not born yet during this time period.  This is the song Kitty plays:[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ChKsMjIMFw](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D_ChKsMjIMFw&t=NjU3NjkxZDMyY2E1NjUxMzY5ZGUwODE5MmRjOTU0NjFkNTBiOGIzMyw0MUR0b2hYdg%3D%3D&b=t%3AeH7nodgqH_kb6sBE80MicQ&p=http%3A%2F%2Fdjinmer4.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179695109162%2Fthe-hours-jh-au&m=1))_

The rainy weather left everyone irritable and housebound.  Dr. Darkholme and his sister Anne-Marie LeBeau had braved the sheeting rain to call upon the Prydes, unfortunately, the dim lighting left everyone feeling tired.  In an attempt to lighten the mood, Kitty had offered to play the old harpsichord.

“I tuned it myself just last week.”

That caught Darkholme’s attention.  “You have perfect pitch?”

Kitty shook her head.  “I have relative pitch and a tuning fork.  Those are sufficient.”

“Well, we could all use a good tune, raht now.”  Sometimes Anne-Marie slipped and an odd accent would come out.  It would have been trivial but Kitty was pretty sure it wasn’t the same accent that Darkholme spoke with.  And yet, they’d never given anyone a reason to believe them to be anything other than siblings.  Kitty dearly wished she could meet this Commandant Lebeau if only so she could quiet her suspicions.

“Of course.  Any requests?”

“Do you know anything by any Bavarian composers?”  In the dim light and with the somber suit on the equally dark upholstery, Dr. Darkholme almost vanished in the gloom.

Kitty thought for a second, then took out out her music album.  “I don’t have anything by a Bavarian but I do have other German composers.”

The piece she chose was quite long and intricate and probably the most impressive of her repertoire.  When she finished, she was surprised to see that Darkholme had come over to read the music over her shoulder.  “Oh, do you play?” she asked, about to get up to give him room.

“Alas, my … condition would make playing most instruments impossible.”  Kitty blushed when she remembered that he only had three fingers per hand.  “Still, I’m glad to see that your family isn’t one of those who think music’s too passionate for a woman.”  He leaned forward, not touching but a little too close none the less.  Kitty hurriedly stood and went over to Madame Lebeau’s side.  The red-head complimented her on her playing noting that she herself only played the Spanish  _guitarra_.

“This is Bach’s Chaconne, for violin.” stated the blue man.  “Who did the transcription?”

“I did.  It’s hardly difficult.”

“You?   _Un accomplissement remarquable_.  You’re more intelligent than I thought.”

Kitty flushed, unsure if he was complimenting or insulting her.  She settled on a quick curtsy to acknowledge his statement.  “

“ _Merci, Doktor Darkholme.”_

The three of them spent the rest of the afternoon discussing music.  The next day she received a package of sheet music from other German composers.  This time it was signed and she sent a thank-you note to the doctor.

* * *

_2 PM_

_“_ When I said you should send her more presents, jewelry was not what I had in mind,”  Marie said dryly.

“I don’t see why not.  Your girls get jewelry all the time and you encourage them.”

“ _My_  girls are whores and whores die poor if they don’t manage their finances well.  Jewelry is too forward at this time.  Get her flowers instead.”

“I don’t know what her favorite flowers are.”

Green eyes rolled, carefully shaded by hat and fan.  “You’re lucky my business is in the entertainment of gentlemen, otherwise you’re plan would have collapsed by now.  Come on, stop giving the man false hope.”

Marie dragged her brother off to a local florist instead.

Teresa Pryde examined the bouquet her daughter had received.  White lilies-of-the-valley, blue amaryllis and one bough of pink peach blossoms.  “Well,” she sniffed.  “At least he’s not completely uncultured.”

_A/N: Lily-of-the-valley (sweetness, humility, returning happiness, trust, also the flower of May), Amaryllis (Pride, a play on their name), Peach blossoms (Long-life, generosity, and bridal hope)_

* * *

_3 PM_

_“_ If I may,” Darkholme gestured to the red-headed man in the   _Armée de terre_ uniform.  Kitty nodded politely.  “Lady Katherine Pryde, my brother-in-law, Commandant Remy Lebeau.”

She held out her hand and the man bowed and kissed it.  What was it with continentals and kissing hands?  How forward of them!  “Honored to meet you.”

“ _Enchante, mademoiselle.”_ The two of them spent much of the afternoon getting to know each other, with Remy regaling the lady with the tale of how he and Anne-Marie had met.  Kurt knew that it was perhaps the only ‘respectable’ tale Remy could tell in public.

The tea was an interesting meal.  The actual tea was a strong, Irish blend and the cucumber sandwiches were sliced paper thin but used rye bread rather than the usual white.  Kurt wondered if the departure from tradition was due to economy on the Prydes part or an attempt to make him more comfortable.  He had mentioned to Lady Katherine (”My friends call me Kitty.  You can do the same.”) that he found the English white bread incredibly bland and boring and preferred stronger tea in the afternoon since he tended to stay up all night for his experiments.  (And other extracurricular activities.)

Once the meal had been completed and Darkholme and Lebeau had returned to his house, he asked, “What do you think of her?”

“Charming.  Better than you deserve, certainly.”  Remy sat down at the laboratory table, confident enough in Kurt’s neat habits not to worry about ending up in something noxious.  “I’m not sure she’s the best candidate for your scheme.  Yes, her family is desperate, but she’s a little too intelligent to let any slip-ups go unquestioned.  You would have been better off with some of the friends she had.  What were their names?  Riley and Sydney.”

“The Finns and the Whites are part of the  _bourgeoisie_  and not in the same desperate straits as the Prydes, which would defeat the purpose of finding a wife in the first place.  Besides listening to either of the two of them day in and day out would drive me to the gin bottle.  At least with Kitty, I can have a conversation.”

Red eyes narrowed.  “Wade said your judgment in this issue may have been compromised.”

“Wade isn’t the one who’s going to have to marry her.  Call it a balancing act.  She’s more dangerous than the average debutant but I can tolerate her better.”

“Fair enough.  The other problem is that the Prydes are clearly uncomfortable with the idea of handing their daughter over to you.  Given the length of time for courting and engagement, aren’t you worried they’ll marry her to someone else?  Especially after that stunt you pulled with the New York lawyer.  Really, Kurt?  You couldn’t bite your tongue about the atheism until after the wedding?”

“Actually, I have a plan to present them with a more palatable candidate before it gets to the marriage.”

“What?  Who?”

“I’ll show you before you go.  Now, what was the real business that brought you to England?”

* * *

_4 PM_

“Remind me again why you couldn’t just knife one of the cleaning staff and take his place?”

“I’m a thief, not a murderer.  Besides, since you were in the area, why not do this heist as cleanly as possible?”

Currently, Kurt and Remy were in a small rented flat outside the Penge Commons in Sydenham.  They were waiting for the Crystal Palace to close.  “You’ve memorized the layout?”

“Yes, and those sketches of yours helped.  We bamf in and out, returning to stash the loot from each exhibit here before moving on to the next one.  You’re the one who grabs the loot, I’m just transport.  We don’t take any main exhibits and we’ve only one night to do this.  Have I missed anything?”

“No, you’ve got it all.”

They watched the people leave then the cleaners arrive.  Then more waiting.  Kurt drank coffee while Remy exercised to keep limber.  Then the lights turned out and only the flash of the night guards lanterns remained.  Remy dressed in coarse grey linen and got his work belt and tools (carefully lubed up in black oil to prevent them from catching the light).  Kurt switched to a black mesh suit he used to wear for practice in the circus.  Then they bamfed into the Crystal Palace, Kurt clinging to the wall with his tail wrapped around Remy’s waist.

They hit the jewelry exhibit first.  After picking the locks on the far cases, he carefully lifted each piece and replaced it with a prepared forgery.  Lebeau had visited the Palace last year and had a good idea of what he needed.  The two visits earlier this week were just to update their knowledge of any changes that had occurred.

Kurt had vetoed going to the statuary hall.  While Remy could probably get some forgeries of the smaller busts, the weight to value ratio was just too low.  The two busts he had brought were left in the flat, to be ground to powder come morrow.  On the other hand, they took all of the perfume carafes from that section.  Kurt could probably deconstruct the formulas and then Remy could arrange to sell them across the sea in the Colonies.  And Marie could use them for herself or her girls.

Textiles were skipped as gaps were too obvious and silver dining accessories too esoteric unless melted down.  They grabbed some antique books from the library but cut their time there short when Kurt dropped a book and attracted the attention of the night guard.

Paintings, on the other hand, were the last major strike.  Kurt would really like to meet this Piotr Rasputin, he was by far the best forger of paintings that Remy had ever hired.  Again, they avoided the main attractions but Remy had over two dozen replacements to make.  It was enough that Kurt had to come down and help him and they barely got out before the watchman appeared.

“That’s an incredible haul,” Kurt muttered as the sun came up and he and Remy were lying flat on the floor.

“I estimate the total value to be over 200,000 francs,” agreed Remy.

“I should bring Kitty here.”

The redhead sat up and looked at the older man.  “You think she’d enjoy it?”

“She’s very intelligent and has a voracious appetite for knowledge.”

“It does seem like a good idea.  They’re going to replace the perfumes as soon as they notice, but you might want to avoid the painting and jewelry galleries.”

“She’s intelligent, but not omniscient.  She won’t know a forgery from the real thing.”  Kurt thought about it for a bit.  “Well, she won’t know with the paintings anyway.  Maybe keep her in front of the main display case with the jewelry.”

* * *

_5 PM_

Fred Dukes made his way down to the shark tank of the Brighton Sea Life Aquarium.  Per his instructions, he had found a side door, used by the cleaners unlocked.  Others would have to have paid a shilling for the view and been glad to get it so cheap but Dukes had grown up among the dockworkers.  Fish held no attraction for him.  “ **Mystique?!**   The Hell you want to meet in the damned Aquarium for?  This some other kinky party-time thing?”

“Heard you get  **around.** So what?  Figure you wanna taste on the Freddie Dukes’  **sausage**?”

“C’mon then, Blue!   **Step right up!”**

No one came out.  Instead, the fat man felt a sharp pain inside him.  “Wh-what the Hell hap-”

“Linda sends her regards, you gruesome pig.”

Fred turned.  Instead of an attractive blue spy, her equally blue and considerably less attractive son was there.  “Looks like I mixed up which blue-skinned lady wants the big ride!”

The fat man swung out at Nightcrawler who nimbly jumped away.  Nightcrawler toyed with the man, never teleporting away but never bothering to strike a blow either.  “Go ahead and take your time, Dukes.  I can do this all night.”

“You-”  Fred stopped moving, the sharp pain had grown unbearable.  Then he started choking and vomiting up blood.  After a minute he started wheezing from a punctured lung.  Once he’d been still for a while, Remy, Wade, and a blue woman with the same refined features as Rogue walked in.  “Kurt-” started Remy, but Darkholme held up a hand.  He bamfed away and less than a minute later the woman and Remy saw a bloody shark appear in the tank.  Then Kurt reappeared again in a cloud of ill-smelling smoke.

Wade was bent over the huge body.  “You couldn’t kill him somewhere else?  Somewhere I’d have an easier time moving him?”

“Don’t bother.”  The smile that twisted Darkholme’s scarred face made him look even more demonic.  “There are no clues so we can leave it as another mystery for the police.  They must be bored with Newcastle poisoner being so quiet and the Potton black widow hanged.”

“Not to spoil your satisfaction, my son, but why now?  Linda’s been dead for almost half a decade now.”

“I had to find the Dukes first.”

“But why not wait until after the wedding?  Surely that would be safer.”

“He killed Linda, I’m not giving him a chance at Kitty.”  The three other criminals looked at the assassin.

“My, you really did fall for this one.  Will I get to meet her before the wedding?”

“Of course, Mother.  I’m planning on proposing formally soon.  It would be best if you and the Prydes meet before then.  Do you have time?”

“I need to lay low for the next month.  This seems like a good time to do it.”

* * *

_6 PM_

“So how has your experiment gone?”

“Mostly good.  The only drawback I’ve seen so far is that there’s no memory transference.  I’m getting emotions and some images but I don’t remember what happened while under the influence.”

Mystique traced out weird patterns over the workbench.  “And what is this … what name are you using for your alternate?”

“Wagner.  Kurt Wagner.”

“It’s creepy,” piped in Wade.  “They look almost identical except Wagner’s missing the scar and yellow eyes, not red.  He’s polite, soft-spoken and attends  _church_  of all things.”

She arched one eyebrow at the Canadian.  “Sounds like it’s a good cover.  And based on how the Prydes acted, they’ll be relieved to exchange a surly atheist Doktor for a God-fearing philanthropist.  Will you introduce him before or after the engagement?”

“After.  If something goes wrong we can fall back on the engagement.  If Kitty takes to Wagner we can arrange an ‘unfortunate accident’ to kill Darkholme on a ‘business trip’.  Then the cousin can swoop in and offer to fulfill the engagement after the mourning period and then it will be all set.”

Mystique sat silently as she thought it through.  “Yes, this does seem like a good plan, as long as no one better shows up during the mourning period.  Just be careful.  Any slip-ups and Kitty will probably catch you in the act.”

“Please, I’ve been murdering people for over a decade now and have never been caught.  I won’t make a mistake now.  As for the possibility of a rival, well Darkholme will still have his uses even after he’s legally dead.”

* * *

_7 PM_

The dinner with the parents went as well as could be expected.  Mystique hosted, as to be expected at the time.  Red hair, blue skin and yellow eyes with her features carefully arranged to match Anna-Marie’s.  “Kurt,” she explained with a false gentle smile on her face.  “Is my only son from my first husband, Christian Darkholme.  Marie, I had with my second husband, Mark D’Ancanto from the US.”

“Second husband?”  Countess Teresa was quick to seize on any discrepancies.  “Surely you’re not divorced?”

“Widowed twice over, I’m afraid.  After Mark departed this plane, I’ve decided against marrying a third time.  I spend my time traveling instead.”  Kurt resisted the urge to snort.  As bare bone facts, Raven’s statement was technically true.  That she was the cause of her own widowhood had been tactfully left out.  And Raven did travel a lot, she just didn’t say what she happened to do while traveling.  After supper, the others casually left Kurt and Kitty alone, the ladies retreating to the drawing room to play their mind games, the gentlemen to the billiards table where Remy was under strict orders not to accept any bets (but humiliating them by beating them soundly was fine).

The two items of the transaction were left on the sofa in the parlor.  Kurt had considered writing out a speech for this moment but a silver tongue wasn’t among his talents.  Instead, he simply handed Kitty a small box.  The ring inside was perhaps a tad too ostentatious for English good taste but it wasn’t like everyone didn’t know this was a case of impoverished nobility marrying money.  So he had discarded Marie’s suggestion of silver and a solitaire diamond and decided something a touch more sentimental would be better.  The ring was custom made, white gold shaped like a cat with diamond accents.  Most of the diamonds were first water, except for the two eyes were slightly less valuable blue ones but they matched Kitty’s eyes perfectly.  The young girl’s orbs widened at the whimsical ring and involuntarily her lips curved up in a smile.  “Oh my, how very cute!”

“ _Danke_ , I believe the same.  It is, perhaps, not quite the thing for England but I thought you might appreciate something that did not blend in with the crowd.”

“I love it!”  Then she sobered, carefully closing the box again.  “So it’s that time already?”

“Your mother stopped raising objections so I assume we’ve delayed enough for propriety.  Although there’s still some time; it will be a while before enough of my family can gather here for the wedding.  Once they’ve settled on a date, we can make the announcement.  And I assume I’ll be meeting some other members of your family before as well?”

“I’m afraid not.  Only child of only children for the past several generations.  There are a number of friends you might meet though.”

“Does your family have any preferences for the wedding?  I’m fairly indifferent to the proceedings so there’s not much I object to.”

She took a deep breath.  “First, I would like the ceremony conducted by the local priest.  I understand from your rant a few months ago,” she side-eyed him a little.  “That you are not part of any congregation.  Would you be willing to convert?”

“I could, but we could also have a civil ceremony instead.  And I have no objection to you raising any children in whatever religion you are.”

“Church of England.  I accept your offer of tolerance in return for having a civil ceremony.  That might work out alright, my father is friends with a judge.  But since we won’t be in a church-”

“My home, of course.”

She sighed.  “That would be a relief.  Size of the party?”

“Just my family and your friends.  How many bridesmaids do you want?”

“I’ll have to think about that.  Who will be your groomsman?”

“A cousin, either Nils or Marcus depending on who will make it.  Will your parents want an announcement?”

“Give me the names and addresses.  I’ll write out the invitations rather than putting it in the paper.”

“Would you like an elaborate-”

“No.  Thank you anyway.  But my trousseau is mostly made up of what my mother brought with her.  I’d rather the gown not stand out too much against the decor.”

“I could-”

“Again, no.  It would be highly improper for the groom to provide the attire for the bride.  I’ll wear whatever you wish after the marriage but you’ll have to put up with a dowdy bride.”

“You could wear a sackcloth and still would be pretty.  Fine, just tell me what color your dress is so the suit I commission doesn’t clash.”

“White of course.  It wouldn’t do to be wishing myself back after all.”  Kitty leaned forward a little, pressing her forehead against his shoulder.  “I’m sorry, there’s so much to prepare.”

“ _Nein, es tut mir leid_.  I shouldn’t be pressuring you about this tonight.”  He stood and helped her up.  “Shall we give the others the happy news?”

_A/N: The ring[https://www.zales.com/enhanced-blue-white-diamond-accent-cat-open-ring-sterling-silver-size-7/p/V-20028198?cid=PLA-goo-shop_p2_rings_fashion_high&ds_rl=1252053&ds_rl=1252056&gclid=CjwKCAjwyOreBRAYEiwAR2mSkgigZLPVYXr30xyNbZSkueWKLfp8S6reV17Mwo1yXxciB2CSaOLFmxoC3XgQAvD_BwE&gclsrc=aw.ds](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.zales.com%2Fenhanced-blue-white-diamond-accent-cat-open-ring-sterling-silver-size-7%2Fp%2FV-20028198%3Fcid%3DPLA-goo-shop_p2_rings_fashion_high%26ds_rl%3D1252053%26ds_rl%3D1252056%26gclid%3DCjwKCAjwyOreBRAYEiwAR2mSkgigZLPVYXr30xyNbZSkueWKLfp8S6reV17Mwo1yXxciB2CSaOLFmxoC3XgQAvD_BwE%26gclsrc%3Daw.ds&t=NjYwMGI4MDUwZThiY2M4ZTllNGEwZTQ1ODhiMjk0ZjU0YTE3MzMxMyw0MUR0b2hYdg%3D%3D&b=t%3AeH7nodgqH_kb6sBE80MicQ&p=http%3A%2F%2Fdjinmer4.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179695109162%2Fthe-hours-jh-au&m=1)_

* * *

_8 PM_

A flash of light caught Rachel’s eye and she turned her attention to her friend.  “Kitty, is that a ring?”  She snatched her friend’s hand up and brought it to her face to inspect.  “It is a ring!  And quite fancy too!  Where on earth did you get it?”

Attracted by the noise, the rest of their friends quieted down.  Kitty blushed rosily and tried to reclaim her appendage but Rachel was having none of it.  “It was a gift,” she stated frostily.

The taller girl gave her a look.  “A rather expensive one.  From a suitor?”

“A bit more serious than that.”

“An engagement?”  She nodded.

“Well, congratulations!” said Rachel, ignoring the slight twinge of discomfort she felt.

“Yes, who would ever have expected Kitty would be the first of our set to get engaged?” shot Tabitha cattily.

Kitty was not the prettiest among them, the honor going to Tabitha with her gold hair, blue eyes, hourglass figure, and strawberries-and-cream complexion.  She certainly wasn’t the wealthiest, which was accorded to Betsy Braddock whose family was had made a fortune in munitions.  She couldn’t even say she was the most highly ranked since Amara’s mother’s dowry had bought her a marquis to wed.  Still, the Prydes were of the nobility and Kitty was appealing with her heart-shaped face, chestnut hair and blue eyes.  After her debut, she was expected to go no more than two seasons before getting engaged.  They just hadn’t expected her to be the first among them to reach that state. 

“It’s arranged, so it’s not like I had to do much.” the girl responded.  Below her breath, Rachel heard her add.  “There goes any hope about being discreet about this.”  Rachel decided to have words with Tabitha when they were alone.  the other girls crowded around, interested to hear everything.

“So who is he?”

“The Bavarian doctor from across the square.”

“Him?  But he’s over thirty!  Can he even feel anything anymore?”

“Marriage,” said Kitty repressively.  “Is a contract.  Passion should have nothing to do with it if you want to live a safe and secure life.”

The girls laughed and continued to pester her.  “Will you be his first?”

“No, he was a widower back in Bavaria.”

Tabitha tossed her curls back.  “I would not wish to marry a widower.  Would be rather like riding a pony broken in by someone else.”

“I think that would be an advantage.” opined Rachel.  “He’s older and probably less demanding.  You’d do your duty twice or however many times needed for the heir and the spare, and then you could just ignore each other for the rest of your lives.”

Kitty glanced at her unfortunately red-headed friend.  “Is that the way your sister and your brother-in-law do it?  They seem affable enough in public.”

“No, I have no doubt they love each other.  But for me, I’d prefer money to passion.  To have a large house, a coach and four and be able to travel with impunity-”

“So that’s what Madame Raven D’Acanto talked about while Dr. Darkholme proposed,” stated Kitty dryly.

“Yes, she had some fascinating stories about the Turks and Egypt.  But I’d rather have the security than the romance, even if my husband was five-and-forty.”

“Four-and-thirty in this case.  I understand.  It would be nice to have a suitor closer to my age but I have my parents and the estate to think about.  It’s not like there are many beaux clamoring to take over a mortgaged house after all.”

Wanda opened her dreamy eyes.  She had a peculiar way of going through life, more as if she were observing rather than living.  Rachel had a sneaking suspicion the brunette was a laudanum addict or perhaps had consumption.  “But do you like him?”

“Well enough,” Kitty answered.  “Certainly we’ve had plenty to talk about at parties.”

“Has he given you any gifts?”

“Flowers mostly.  But quite a few books and a lot of sheet music as well.  Fruit rather than confectionery, but he is a doctor after all.”

“Have you kissed at all?”

Kitty gave Tabitha a funny look.  “He’s a Continental.  He kisses my hand whenever we meet.”

“But nothing else?  How boring!”

The conversation continued to what the other girls wanted in their suitors.  But before they all departed back to their homes, Rachel drew Kitty aside.  “Is there anything else that’s troubling you?  You seem to like your intended well enough but you’ve been rather distant all afternoon.”

The younger girl hesitated but then spoke.  “It’s a minor thing, but my father was going over the details of the contract with me.  He’s claiming an income of over 4,000 pounds a year.  What I can’t figure out is how he’s making his money.”

Rachel felt a chill go down her spine.  “You think he’s a fraud?”

The shorter girl shook her head.  “No, he has the bank records and receipts to prove it.  He’s making about 1,000 from his private practice.  500 from his salary as a lecturer in the university.  500 from various investments.”

“That sounds about right, although maybe a little high from the practice.”

“Yes, it matches what we expect.  But where is the rest of it coming from?”

Rachel thought about it.  “Blackmail?”

“Or some other crime.  I don’t have a choice about this engagement, but I do intend to at least find out as much as I can.  Also to find some means of protecting myself should the worst happen.”

Now Rachel understood.  “I’d offer to read his mind for you but Dr. Darkholme’s proven a singularly tough nut to crack.”

“I know.  If you had found anything you would have told me immediately.  No, I’m going to have to do a bit of investigating myself.”

Rachel embraced her bosom friend.  “Be careful.  And if you get into trouble scream my name in your mind.  I’ll fly right over and rescue you even if it’s the middle of the morning.”

Kitty giggled.  “My knight in flaming aura.”

* * *

_9 PM_

There were definitely some advantages to being poor.  No one thought it at all weird for the Prydes to skip a night or two of revelry (or a week or a month).  And since they weren’t going to parties, her parents had taken the habit of sleeping early.  Kitty slipped on the shirt and pants she had created from some ancient bedding no longer being used in the house.  She then tucked her hair up under a boy’s cap and let herself out the servant’s entrance.

She’d seen the Doctor go out with his sister that evening so she knew he wasn’t in.  More importantly, she’d seen his valet/butler (curious that Wade held both roles) accept several late night deliveries.  Depending on what was going on this might be her best chance.

She slipped into the side alley that led to the loading dock but didn’t enter that way.  Instead, as soon as she found a shadow deep enough she pressed against the wall.  Activating her ability, she was soon inside the garden.  She stuck to the wall as much as possible.  In her case, the need for potential cover was a greater priority than keeping to the shadows.  She could hold her breath and hide in a solid object for a couple of minutes.  She didn’t trust her control if she had to dive into the earth.

She checked Darkholme’s study first.  No blackmail letters although she did find a list of names, some of whom she recognized from some very scandalous rumors.  Her lips thinned.  Looks like Dr. Darkholme was a Dr. Gin-and-Tonic too.  Well, that did explain some of the extra income.  It wasn’t very ethical but it was legal.  There were also receipts from some very famous London brothels (famous enough that Kitty had heard of them).  Well, she supposed whores needed medical care as well.

The laboratory was next.  This was actually pretty surprising.  There was a theatre make-up kit set up next to some mirrors (perhaps the good doctor occasionally felt the need to go incognito?).  Rather large amounts of laudanum, cocaine, and heroin although she already knew he was dealing.  Another crate surprisingly filled with pamphlets on birth control.  Kitty actually did a double take on that one.  Unlike the other things she had found, these pamphlets were illegal, although it made sense.  After all, if he was the physician to several brothels, his clientele would be very interested in the subject.  Ultimately, Kitty decided to take one pamphlet for herself but not do anything else.  They might have been illegal but she couldn’t fault the reasoning behind it.

Continuing on, she found his notes but wasn’t knowledgeable enough about the pharmaceuticals field to interpret them, although they bore out Anna-Marie’s statement that chemistry was also her brother’s hobby; Kitty couldn’t interpret the log but basic logic told her these were records of experiments.  A large basin with disgusting stains on the ceramic walls.

The sound of a key in the lock had her hiding behind a cabinet.  She saw Wade entering from the gateway to the dock.  Behind him was a large bundle being dragged on the ground.  He went over to the basin and dumped in the contents.  A body flopped into the basin.  It was well dressed older gentlemen … with his throat gaping open.  Wade pulled the knife out and dumped it on the workbench.  He began to undress the corpse while grumbling to himself.  “Sure it might be dim, but I think I’d notice someone in the lab when there shouldn’t be but  _nooo_  I’ve got to be an idiot for the sake of the plot.”

This was no ordinary grave robbery.  Time spent watching the cook in the kitchen had taught Kitty the difference between fresh blood and old.  This wasn’t some corpse dug out of the grave, to be stripped of clothing and the bones boiled for medical studies.  This was freshly murdered.  Well, it might end up as a medical skeleton anyway.

Kitty tried to stifle a hysterical laugh but was unsuccessful.  Wade whirled around pulling a gun from his coat to point it at her.  She wasn’t afraid of the bullet but was surprised to find she couldn’t phase into the cabinet behind her.  What was it even made of?

“Lady Katherine?”  Crud, even if he saw her and she couldn’t get away, she didn’t think anyone would recognize her with the boy’s clothes and the dirt she’d rubbed into her face.  “Hell, this makes everything so fuckin’ complicated.”


	3. The Season

“Ah, Katzchen, there’s something I need to tell you.”  Kitty looked up from where she was playing the piano.  The light was fading and soon she would need to go home.  “Yes, Herr Doktor?”

“We’re engaged now, you can just call me Kurt.  Anyway, what I wanted to say is that my cousin will be coming to stay for the next year, Kurt Wagner.  He’ll be here sometimes while I’m away on business.”

“I see.”

“Anna-Marie is going to stay here, so she may invite you over sometimes.  Wagner’s a bit younger than I am, and this is his first trip outside of Bavaria.  Please do be accommodating to him.”

“As long as your sister’s here to play chaperone, that’s fine.”

* * *

 _“_ Lady Katherine, may I present my cousin, Kurt Wagner.”  Kitty nodded and held out her hand.  Like Dr. Darkholme, Kurt bowed over her hand and kissed it.  Kitty noted that she needed to tell the Bavarians that the gesture was a little too forward for England.

“ _Liebchen_ , what a lovely vision you are!”

“ _Erfreut, sie kennenzulernen, Herr Wagner.”_

He broke out in a wide grin.  “Ach, Marie told me you’d been practicing your German.  That was very good!”

“I thought it best to help get along with everyone.  Your English is also quite fluent.”

“ _Vielen Danke, schönes Mädchen.”_ Kitty was confused.  “It means ‘Thank you, fair maiden.’  I guess you’ve got a bit more studying to do.”

* * *

“Go to Mass with you?  But didn’t Marie say you were Catholic?  We’re Anglican.”

“Perhaps an exchange?  You attend Mass with my congregation one week, and I’ll attend your Church next.” 

Count Pryde and Lady Teresa looked at each other.  “We’re a bit surprised.  Your cousin has made his views on religion well known.”

The younger Bavarian straightened with a smile.  “Ah, but I’m not my cousin, am I?  Darkholme sees the world through jade-colored glasses all the time.  As for myself, I can look and see all the splendor in life that God has granted us and be thankful for it.”  Teresa turned to look at her daughter.

“I would like to attend a Catholic Mass if only to see the differences between our version and theirs.”

“I suppose a mick’s better than a heathen.”  For a second, Wagner’s eyes seemed to darken to his cousin’s blood tones, but then he blinked and his eyes were gold again.  Kitty chalked it up to a passing cloud or other illusion.  “Better a mick than a spike.”

To the women’s surprise, the Count laughed.  “Alright, despite appearances your not a molly.  Yes, Kitty, you can attend one Mass with Herr Wagner.  However, let’s reverse the order.  Herr Wagner can attend the Church of the Cross with us this Sunday and take you to … “ He trailed off and gestured to the Bavarian.

“St. Xavier’s.”

“He can take you to St. Xavier’s the next week.  With Madame Lebeau, correct?”

“I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise.”

* * *

“I’d like to take your daughter to the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition.”  Count Pryde and Lady Teresa looked at each other.  “That does sound like something she’d enjoy,” said the Count.  “But there’s the question of transportation … “

“I suppose we could take the carriage, but honestly Burlington House is easier to get to by the Underground.”

“And how do you know that?”

“I occasionally need to do a consultation in Picadilly.  I’ve generally found it easier to use public transportation than drive there.”

“Will Madame Lebeau be accompanying you?”

“No, Marie has a horror of crowds.  And I don’t have the rank to request a private showing.”

“Such a vulgar mode of travel,” Teresa sniffed.

“But they won’t require a chaperone because they’ll be in public the whole time,” refuted Carmen.  He turned to the doctor.  “I’ll allow it but only because the two of you are already engaged.  And you must return at least an hour before sunset.”

“Of course.”

The outing turned out to be a good idea.  Kitty was happy to be outside after being essentially confined to the estate most of the winter, and she greatly enjoyed all the displays at the exhibition.  Kurt was less impressed (art was not his choice of entertainment) but greatly enjoyed talking with Kitty without the need of an ever-present chaperone.  When they got back to the square, they dawdled a bit, reveling in a bit of freedom.

“So what did you think of my cousin?”

“He’s very nice.  My parents might have actually liked him better than you.”

“It’s because he’s religious, isn’t it?  Well, I’m not going to lie just to make them comfortable.”

“That did help.  He’s also much less abrupt in his manner of speech than you are.”

“Wagner’s always been my better in some ways.  What did you think of him?”

“He’s very playful and happy-go-lucky.  Almost silly really.  He’s a lot more social than you, more social than me too.  He’s always been the life of the party whenever he’s gone out, at least that’s what my friends say.  Attracted a lot of admiration, although I understand he’s poor?”

“Not quite,” said Darkholme dryly.  “He did inherit some money, and his investments make about 500 pounds per year.  Much less than myself but hardly poor.  In addition, until he’s my heir until I have children so there’s that.”

“Oh,” she sobered a little.  “You’re not worried?”

“Why should I be?  The fool wants to enter a seminary.  Part of the reason he’s here is because Mother doesn’t want him to waste his life in the priesthood.  Hopefully, a taste of the secular life will inspire him to do something different.”

“I see.”

“But you haven’t answered my question.  Did you like him?”

“I, uh … “

“You did.”  They walked in silence for a while.

“As I said, he’s very nice and supportive.  He listens to me, which very few people do other than yourself.  He doesn’t talk down to me as if I don’t understand.  And he makes me laugh.”

“Not to mention that he’s closer to your age.  It’s fine.”  Then the doctor twirled her around so that her back was against a tree.  “As long as you remember that you’re engaged to me.”

Kitty, her breath knocked out of her by the impact, nodded wordlessly, eyes wide.  Darkholme looked down at her, studying her features.  “Katzchen, may I kiss you?”

She swallowed.  But then leaned up to gently press her lips to his.  It was perhaps bold but Darkholme certainly wasn’t the most conventional suitor.  When she drew back again, he kissed her on the forehead, and then her eyelids.  As she kept them shut he continued, to the corner of her eyes, down the side of her face, to the edge of her lips.  After he placed one more on her lips he backed away and she opened her eyes again.

“I should take you home.”

* * *

“Well done, Marie!”  Kitty clapped as the red-head disarmed her cousin with her foil.  The two took off their masks and made their way over to their spectator.

“I think I like this better,” said Wagner.  “Much less bloody than the  _mensur_ duels at university.”

“ _Mensur_?” asked Kitty.

“They use a heavier blade than this, the  _schlaeger_.  There is no winner or loser but rather the bout ends when either or both of the participants are unable to continue, as defined by the attending physicians.”

“That sounds awful.”

“T’aint the most civilized sport out there.  I much prefer fencing in general.” agreed Anna-Marie.  She sat down next to Kitty and took a sip of the flavored water that Wade had brought.

“If there’s no winner or loser, what’s the point?”  Kitty addressed her questions to the Bavarian.

“Why the dueling scar, of course!  The more ghastly and grotesque it is, the better it shows the participants manliness and courage.”

Kitty stared at him for a while.  Then she turned to her future-sister-in-law.  “Is that how Dr. Darkholme got his scar?  Participating in this  _mensur_?”

Wagner was the one who answered instead.  “No, my cousin was often called upon to be a witnessing physician.  He decided back then the whole thing was a dilettante exercise.  I somewhat agree with him.  Academic dueling is pointlessly cruel and painful.  But fencing, now that has all of the grace of the duel without the potential death and maiming involved.”

“It does look fun,” Kitty said wistfully.  

Wagner finished drinking his glass and looked over to her.  “Would you like to learn?”

“I would but I don’t have a tutor.”

“I could teach you.”

“Oh, um,” she looked over at Marie.  “I’m not sure that would be appropriate.”

The red-head just made a shoo-ing gesture.  “Go ahead.  I’ll stay here and watch the two of you.”

“We’ll just start off with the basic grip and stance today.  If you want more lessons, you’ll have to leave off your corset during that time.”  Wagner pulled her up from the chair and handed her the foil.  He placed his hand on the small of her back, pushing forward a little.  “Stand up straight.  Now hold your arm up, bending a little at the elbow.”  He slid one hand down her shoulder until she had it at the correct angle.  Then he fussed over her grip on the foil.  All the while Kitty expected Marie to stop them but she just watched with a faintly approving look on her face.

Kitty went home that night with a new foil and a whole host of doubts in her mind.

* * *

“Tell me, Katzchen, have you ever seen ‘The Barber of Seville’?”  Kitty gave Wagner a sharp glance when she heard the nickname.  Strange, it was the same one Darkholme used for her.

“I don’t have the opportunity to visit the theatre often.  I think I’ve only seen one play before, with my friends.”

“Hmm, would you consider watching the opera with me?  There’s a performance running in one of the West End theatres.”  Wagner put down the newspaper and looked over at her.  He and Marie had come by for breakfast (tactfully bringing their own contribution) and they had all divided up the morning paper between them.  Count Carmen anxiously read about Parliament, Lady Teresa looked for more ways to cut corners in the home economics section and Anna-Marie perused the Society pages.  That left Wagner with the entertainment and Kitty read the personals.  

“I don’t know … “

“Oh, do come Kitty!  Cousin Kurt has always had a taste for the stage!”  And Kitty remembered what Darkholme had said, about trying to keep his cousin out of the seminary.  “Count Pryde, Lady Teresa, please come too!  Then we could justify getting a box and staying out of the crowd.”  Carmen and Teresa looked over at each other.  It had been many years since they could have indulged in watching a play from a box.  And if they all went together, it would avoid having any scandal attached to their daughter.

“Very well.”

Kitty’s not sure she gets the point of the play (the desire to be loved for the sake of love sounds very romantic but too impractical for her), but perhaps she’s missing something.  After all, it was hard to concentrate on the stage when all of her attention was on Kurt’s hand resting on top of hers.

* * *

“Will you be dancing this evening, Miss Pryde?”

Kitty looked up at Wagner.  Dr. Darkholme had been called away in an emergency, so his cousin had taken to squiring her around the party they had agreed to attend together.  She was grateful that she wasn’t unescorted, and Anna-Marie was here anyway so it was hardly improper.  But she couldn’t help feeling guilty about how much she enjoyed Wagner’s company.  Not that she hated Dr. Darkholme but Wagner was much easier to get along with.  Sometimes too much so, he’d still be active and social when she was wishing to go to bed.

“I do hope so.  I love dancing but haven’t had many opportunities since my engagement was announced.”

“I suppose my cousin’s lack of fondness for the activity would put a damper on the evening.  May I see your card?”  She handed the dance card over, and Wagner wrote his name in the first and last slots.  “There, now at least you will have two dances this evening, although I’m sure others will also ask.”  Indeed, after her first dance with Wagner, then one with Scott (always kind enough to do one round with all the wallflowers), her card rapidly filled with one each from Robert, Lance, and Pietro.  After that brief whirlwind, Tabitha claimed a turn.

“So who’s the gentleman who took the first space on your card?  Not your fiancee, though he looks similar.”

“That’s Kurt Wagner, his cousin.”

“Hmm.”  After the round, Tabitha led them over to the refreshment table where Kitty gratefully had some punch.  After six rounds she might just sit out the rest of the evening.  “And the dear doctor doesn’t mind his cousin squiring you around to these parties?”

“Darkholme’s not exactly the most social individual.  Not to mention he had to make an emergency call to one of his patients.”

“An emergency?  What type of emergency needs a prescription written out and made up in the middle of the night?”

“I don’t know.”  Actually, she had several ideas based on what Wade had told her but they couldn’t be mentioned in polite society.  Detoxing some grande dame or MP from an overdose no doubt.

“Well, his sister’s here to shield your honor so as long as she doesn’t object, the scandal will be minimal.  What’s he like?”

“Kind.  Very religious, he attends Mass every week and likes to spend time volunteering at charities.  Much less intimidating than his older cousin.  Social and outgoing.”

“You sound like you’re infatuated,” the blonde teased.

“He’s not perfect,” Kitty demurred.  “Sometimes he’s a little too social.  Tonight, I bet he’ll want to stay the entire evening, and I’ll probably be done by midnight.  At least Anna-Marie agrees with me and will be glad to take me home.”

“But do you like him?”

The younger girl paused and thought about it.  “I do.  I don’t want to but it would be very easy to fall for him.”  Tabitha gasped.  “What’s weird is that I feel the Darkholme’s are pushing me towards him, which makes no sense.  I’m already engaged to the doctor, why would they be doing that?”

“Maybe he’s getting cold feet?  Aside from the marriage, you told me about, he seems to be an inveterate bachelor.  Perhaps he wants to break the engagement.”

“He could do so at little cost to himself.  We haven’t set a date for the wedding yet.”

“He’s hardly a rake, Kitty.  If Darkholme is planning to break the engagement, he might be trying to do the honorable thing by providing a replacement bridegroom.  It would ease things for your parents and save your reputation from being completely destroyed.”

Kitty mused but shook her head.  “That doesn’t seem quite right.  I do wonder if Darkholme’s sick, maybe with consumption or cancer?  He emphasized to my parents that if he dies without issue, the fortune goes to Wagner.  If he thinks he might not live to be married, the family would still want to go through with the arrangement.”

“Hence, calling up the younger, healthier cousin to court you after the mourning.”  The older girl shrugged.  “But this is all speculation.  What’s the man like?”

“You mean his prospects?” Kitty knew what her friend was really concerned with.  “He’s not nearly as wealthy as Darkholme, but his income’s a respectable 500 pounds per year.  But you’d better move fast.  His other potential future is joining the clergy.”

Tabitha carefully adjusted her curls and dropped her shawl an inch lower.  “How do I look?”

“A little pale.  Bite your lip.”  The blonde did, putting some color back in her face.  “That’s better.  You’re going for him then?”

“He’s not my first choice.  I’d rather have Alvers.  But it’s best to play the field and not put all my eggs in one basket.  Besides,” the older girl winked.  “This might be just the things to get Lance moving.”

“Well, good luck then.  I’ll stay here for the next three dances and catch my breath.”  Tabitha sashayed off.

After two dances, Wagner came to sit with her.  “May I sit with you?”  Kitty rested her fan on her right cheek.  “Your friend Tabitha is something else.”

“Oh dear.  She wasn’t too forward was she?”

“No.  But I think she’s seeking something that I’m disinclined to give to her.”

“Ah.”  Should she?  The entire family wasn’t quite proper after all and it might avoid some embarrassment in the future.  “Would it help if I told you that you weren’t quite what she was seeking either?”

“Playing the coquette, is she?  Well enough, I enjoy dancing as well.  But she should take care to arrange her affairs better, I do not wish for a connection to be assumed when there is none.”

“I’ll be sure to inform her of that.  Although I’m surprised you weren’t flattered by the attention.”

“She’s not what I favor, no.”  He turned to her.  “Anne-Marie is starting to droop.  Shall we have that last dance before the two of you depart?”

“Maybe the next one or the one after.  I was trying to catch my breath after the half dozen I did at the start.”

“Let me get you another drink then.  Champagne?  Punch?”

“I’ll accompany you.”  They made their way across the floor to the refreshments again.  Kitty partook of more of the punch and a few desserts.  She spared herself a couple more dances while Wagner invited a few more wallflowers to the floor.  Kind of him to help Scott with the effort.  Anne-Marie was deposited next to her by Mr. Summers and Kitty assured her that the next set would be her last.  When Kurt came over she agreed to one last dance and gracefully took his hand.

As they made their way to the floor he squeezed her hand lightly and smiled.  She found herself blushing furiously but let him get away with that impropriety.

* * *

“Do you think your brother-in-law will take any prizes this year?”

“I doubt it.  He has a fast yacht and good crew, but he’s not that fast.”

“Which section is he in?”

“The Black Group.”  The Darkholmes had gotten together for Cowes Week, and invited (possibly dragged) the Prydes with them.  Apparently, they had been participating for a few years now and had standing arrangements.  The only one not participating was Kurt Wagner, who was considering between several theological colleges.  They hadn’t managed to talk him out of joining the clergy yet, although Anna-Marie stated confidently that the past few months had caused him to waver in his commitment.

Kitty had managed to wheedle the real reason the Darkholmes participated from Wade.  Commandant Lebeau ran a very successful thieves ring between England and France which got around the local coppers by transporting and selling their loot to the other country.  They also did quite a bit of smuggling of other contraband as well.  The Cowes Week races was a good time for the Darkholme syndicate to scope out the competition and see what new technology was coming out in the field of sailing.  If anything, they’d prefer if Remy didn’t place in anything because that would attract more attention to them.

She wondered if that was the real reason Wagner wasn’t here.  According to Wade, the youngest member of the family wasn’t a participant in the family’s criminal empire.  As such, maybe he was excluded from some of their ploys.  That also may explain despite the fact she was engaged to Darkholme, the rest of the family kept pushing her towards Wagner.  If Darkholme needed to cut and run at any point, they’d still have their alibi on contract.

Kitty was surprisingly alright with this.  (Well, maybe not alright, but coping.)  After Wade had reported to them about what had happened, they’d been open about their illicit activities with her.  Raven was a spy, Marie ran several prominent brothels in various European capitals, Remy had his smuggling operation and Kurt was their doctor (and dealt drugs to the  _haute ton_  on the side).  It was mostly illegal, but to Kitty’s eyes, it wasn’t immoral.  It’s not like Remy was knifing the poor on the streets or that they were killing anyone.  She wouldn’t say they weren’t hurting anyone but most of the people they were hurting could afford it.

(It also helped that it didn’t matter.  As Raven pointed out, even if she said anything, the police would simply brush her off as getting cold feet about the engagement.  Or a bout of hysteria, which would put her under their collective thumb even more completely.)

It was an interesting existence, both more and less free than simply being the daughter of a penniless count.  On one hand, the Darkholme’s were much less restrictive of her actions.  Inside their estate, she was free to dress and act as she wished.  If she wanted to go without her corset, she could.  If she wanted to pretend to be a boy, she could.  Wanted lessons on shooting, make-up or self-defense, any of them were happy to teach her.

This was balanced out by the fact she had much less freedom in everything else.  Once she started being able to pick them out, she realized how much she was watched.  While she wouldn’t say her every move was being noted, enough of it was that she knew she had to watch what she said.  Raven had made it clear that she wasn’t going to be allowed to leave, and that she might as well make the best of her situation.

“The front-runners are have appeared,” said Darkholme, drawing her attention back to the race.  

She quickly raised her opera glasses to her face.  “I don’t see- no, wait, there’s the Commandant!”

“Fifth place?”

“About.”

While still looking at the race, she feels him place something on her arm.  Lowering the glass, she stares at the opal bracelet he had just given her.  “I thought since we are dispensing with the more trying social customs in private, the rules against giving such presents might be relaxed a bit.”

“Opals are bad luck.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about.  We’re the people who give others ‘bad luck’.”

_A/N: Bracelet given to Kitty can be found[here.](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Freuvengitter.com%2Fproduct%2F14k-rose-gold-opal-eternity-band%2F&t=MWQ5ZTNhNTc3ZmRmMWZiNzllMDczNjQxZDA2MTAxMTVlYTk3ZWRjZCxLSDR5bWRXYg%3D%3D&b=t%3AeH7nodgqH_kb6sBE80MicQ&p=http%3A%2F%2Fdjinmer4.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179983214963%2Fthe-season-jh-au&m=1)_

* * *

It was a typical English day, grey and gloomy.  Kitty had stopped by in the afternoon to return a book to Anna-Marie and been asked to wait in the parlor while the red-head went to search her room for the second part of the trilogy.  Taking advantage of the brief moment of isolation, Kitty had gone over to admire their piano when a stifled sob broke through her thoughts.

Whipping around she saw Kurt Wagner curled up in the corner armchair.  Between the gloomy weather, the dark suit he was wearing, and the location, he had gone completely unnoticed by her.  When she leaned down, she realized she had gone unnoticed by him as well, given the start he gave when she put her hand on his shoulder.  He curved deeper into himself, a tangle of limbs she couldn’t begin to unravel, wrapping his tail around himself.  “ _Nein, nein_ , I do not … you deserve … “

“Kurt?”  She kept her voice soft and called him by his Christian name.  Usually, she referred to him and the doctor by their family names in order to keep them separate in her mind.  “Kurt, what’s wrong?”

He took several shuddering breaths before calming down enough to speak understandably in English.  “My apologies for disturbing you, Katzchen.  It was merely … I was reading about the recent murder of Sir Danvers Carew, MP.”

“Yes, that was horrible.  Carew was a friend of my father’s, and the whole house is distraught by his death.”

“A great loss to Parliament.  And I knew him too, he was a philanthropist of great generosity in his circle.  I can’t imagine what could have possibly motivated someone to murder him.”

“Was he targeted?  Or did he just have the bad luck to meet one of those homicidal maniacs?”  Wagner reached out and fidgeted with the morning paper.  “It does not say.  Perhaps the police will have more information in the evening.”

Propriety be damned.  She settled into the armchair with him (dreadfully rumpling her skirts) and embraced the young man.  “The police will find the man who did this and he’ll hang at Newgate.  No one so kind will go unavenged.”

“You’re right.  As much as it pains me, the man who did this is a monster.  He must be put down for the greater good of the world.”  He shifted back but put his hands on her shoulder to keep her in place.  “Dear Katzchen, I mean to find this murderer and deal with him.”

Alarmed she tried to dissuade him.  “Kurt, this is a matter for the police!  Don’t go risking yourself to corner a desperate man!”

He shook his blue head.  “I don’t intend to place myself in danger.  However, upon reflection, I can think of several curious facts that would help their police in their investigation.  Such as the fact I know that Carew’s heir was in deep debt due to the gambling halls of Brooks.  I think an anonymous tip would not go awry.”  Kitty sat there bemused.  She wondered how Wagner, had known that, aside from Remy’s skill at games, gambling and casinos were one of the few areas the Darkholmes left untouched.

“Katzchen … “ his voice brought her back to herself.  She looked up and saw an odd expression on his face.  Again, she was reminded of the similarities between her fiancee and his cousin.  But unlike that twilit walk back from the Royal Academy, Wagner was surely too moral to …

She was wrong.  Wagner kissed her passionately, desperately, like a man drowning.  He embraced her with a grip of steel and she was sure he was leaving bruises.  Finally, she had to use her ability to ghost out of his arms.  They stared at each other for what seemed like a long time, breaths heaving, cheeks flushed, eyes wide.  “I’m sorry,” he said, then vanished in a puff of brimstone-scented smoke.

Kitty sank to the parquet floor.  It was there that Anna-Marie found her, numb with shock and tears running down her face.  


	4. Interlude: Blackmail

Kitty, Kurt, and Marie were in the process of leaving the concert when the escort of another gentleman stopped to stare at them.  “Oh my, if it isn’t Dr. Darkholme!  What a surprise to see you here!”

The doctor turned from where he was helping Kitty into her coat.  “Amanda,” he said coldly.

“Darling, who’s this?”  The other gentleman asked.

“A former patron of mine.”  The blonde smiled lasciviously at the Bavarian.  Her blue eyes drifted to Marie and Kitty.  She gave a sharp nod to Marie before turning her attention to Kitty.  “I know your sister, but aren’t you going to introduce me to this little one?”  She reached out to Kitty’s face.

Kurt stepped in front of Kitty, blocking the blonde’s hand.  “No.  And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll forget you ever saw her in the first place.”

“How coy of you.”  The courtesan (what else could she be?) turned back to her client with a smile.  Marie let out a sigh.  “I don’t suppose I need to warn you to stay away from that woman,” she told Kitty.

“No, the whole thing was pretty clear.  Is she . . . “ she trailed off.  “Does she represent a threat?”

“Not as such,” Darkholme said wryly, helping her into the cab.  As they set off and the sound of the street covered their words, he continued.  “She knows Anna’s  _modus operandi_ , but that’s not illegal here and under the aegis of her husband’s name.  And she only knew me as a client in the years after my wife died.  I was a bit surprised to see her here though.  I wonder what made her leave Vienna.”

“Probably for the same reason we did.  Things were getting a little too hot there,” said Marie.

* * *

Kitty tried to stay away, but it seemed every single one of her few outings she’d run into Ms. Sefton.  The blonde was quite hostile.  She was quite happy to display various ‘presents’ her patrons had given her in contrast to Kitty’s shabby and outdated wardrobe.  She also had a habit of asking pointed questions.  Such as what sins Kitty would be willing to overlook in her marriage.  It got so bad that Kitty took to hiding behind Rachel and her other friends to get away.

Kitty would have had to be blind, deaf and imbecilic not to realize the courtesan was making a play for her husband.  Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to do within the bounds of propriety.  She didn’t want to tell the Darkholmes either.  She’d never actually seen them kill anyone (the closest being Wade disposing of various bodies) but she didn’t put it beyond their reach either.

She salved her battered pride with the fact that all the Darkholmes were contemptuous of Ms. Sefton.  Raven avoided her at every opportunity.  Marie was happy to tell embarrassing stories of Amanda’s history in the demimonde.  Wade called her a cheap whore outright, and Wagner simply stated he made a point of not knowing such a terrible person.  Watching her fiancee snub her whenever they met could turn a bad day into something to be cherished.

* * *

“I’ve been waiting for the opportunity to get you alone,”  Amanda smirked.

“Funny, I’ve been thinking the exact same thing,” said Kurt.  He opened the cab door for her but didn’t bother helping her up.

“Can you afford to be seen doing this now that you’re engaged?”

“England is quite liberal about these things.”

“But your fiancee?”

“She trusts me.  And while I may not care for my reputation, I’m not going to betray that.”  Red eyes glared at her.  “What is it you want, Amanda?”

She trailed one gloved hand over his sleeve.  “Aw, I see the chit has you wrapped around her little finger.  How sweet of her.”  Blue eyes narrowed.  “But would she be quite so pliant if she knew you had a child?”

He took her hand in both of his, looking straight at her.  “We have a child?  Why didn’t you say anything?”

Amanda beamed, confident that she had him now.  Before she could lay out her terms, she felt a sharp prick in her wrist and immediately felt a great wave of lethargy sweep over her.  As she tried to rouse herself, the cab came to a stop and the driver opened the door.  It was a struggle to turn her head and call out for help but when she saw who it was, hope died.  “Deadpool,” was the last thing she said before losing all control.

“Cheap knockout drugs for a cheap whore!  And the author’s killed her off how many times now?”

“Wade,”  Kurt resisted the urge to knock his own servant’s head in.  “Go to the basement as soon as you’ve put the carriage away.  I’ll teleport her down there and you can start the interrogation.  She’s made a rather interesting claim a few minutes ago and now she can take the time to tell us all about it.”

* * *

“I’ve got some bad news, Kitty.”

The brunette placed a bookmark and turned to her soon-to-be sister-in-law.  “Did Dr. Darkholme run off with Ms. Sefton?”

“What?  No, of course not.  He hates her!”  The redhead calmed herself down.  “But some unexpected business came up in Bavaria and he and Wagner are both needed there.  So for the next month, it’s just going to be you and me, I’m afraid.”

“That’s not terrible.  We can make a girl’s … month, out of it.  It would be a great time for you to meet my friends.”

The older woman smiled.  “That seems like a great idea.”


	5. Interlude: Hysteria

Kurt opened another letter, read the contents and then ripped it up while making a noise of frustration.  It attracted Kitty’s attention and she stopped playing the Tarantella on the piano.  “Is something wrong?”

“I’ve told people time and time again, I do not treat hysteria.  I understand it’s steady income for some inferior doctors but I’ve got better things to do with my time.”

“Like prescribing laudanum to those same hysterics?”  Kitty tried to keep her voice neutral but some of the sarcasm leaked in.

Kurt might have missed it.  “If they can afford it, I see no reason not to indulge them.  It’s not like I’m prescribing to infants or children.”

She started the piece all over again.  The fast-paced song gave her difficulties and after her fourth mistake, she closed the piano with a bang.  “Speaking of hysteria, how are you feeling today?  You seem to be in a bad mood.”  It was very noticeable.  Usually, between the two of them, Kitty was calmer and more conciliatory.  Darkholme, while stoic, was prone to black moods and brooding.  (And if the brooding led to some bloodshed down the line, well, Kitty didn’t need to know that, in his opinion.)  Her stormy temper was unusual enough that he took extra care in speaking to her today.

“I’m  _fine_.  I’m not hysterical if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Perhaps.  You do seem a little ill.  What are your symptoms?”  He reached out and took hold of her wrist.  “Your pulse is a little fast.  Do you feel faint?”

“No.”

He lifted his hand to her forehead.  “No fever but you are breathing quicker than normal.  Any trouble sleeping?”

“I’m wearing my corset.  And I don’t sleep well in the summer anyway.”

“And irritability.  Maybe you do have hysteria.”

“I do not!”

“Why are you so adamant about that?  It’s a very common problem among women and easily treated.”

Kitty crossed her arms over her stomach and jerked away.  “I don’t want to undergo surgery!”

Red eyes widened.  “Surgery?  Why on earth do you think of that?”

“Isn’t that what the cure to hysteria is?  They open you up and remove your organs?”  At least that’s what Tabitha had told her when she asked why some of the other girls were so afraid of being diagnosed with it.

“Who the hell told you that?  No.  Occasionally some very shady surgeon trying to drum up business will suggest removing the uterus as a means of dealing with recurrent hysteria but most physicians have less drastic solutions on hand.”  He placed his hands on her shoulders to hold her in place.  “Why don’t I show you the actual treatment for hysteria?  I promise it doesn’t involve any knives or laudanum.”

She still looked hesitant.  “Don’t you trust me?”

Kitty finally nodded.  He took her to the examination room in the house and told her to get undressed down to her under shift.  She stood there in less than she had ever worn before in front of him, blushing furiously.  Amused, the doctor decided to draw this out.  “You don’t have a regular physician, do you?”  She shook her head.  He reached out and cradled her head in his hands.  Her face was quite symmetrical, except her right eyebrow was a touch higher than the left and there was a dimple on that same side.  He slipped one hand down to her throat, measuring her pulse against the second hand of his pocket watch (hers was fast).  Trailing his right hand over her neck he moved until he was standing behind her.  He combed through the loose curls.  “Twenty years ago I’d have measured your skull before committing to an engagement.”

“So am I lucky that my skull size was not a qualifying factor in this contract?”

Darkholme laughed and slid his hands down, past her nape and shoulders to her back.  “I have no idea.  Phrenology was already becoming passe when I got my degree.  I’m afraid I don’t know very much about it at all.”

He traced her spine through the cloth, then slid his hands up the front of her torso, feeling each rib then cupping her breasts through the thin cloth of her shift.  “Hmm, my cousin has you leaving off your corset to practice fencing every day, correct?”

“Ah, yes.  For an hour every day.”  From their position, he could feel her heart race and her breathing quicken.  He toyed with her nipples and felt them harden at his touch.

Then he stepped away to complete the circle and ended up in front of her again.  “Better make it two hours without your corset.  Take it off half an hour before you start to limber up and then wait half an hour after your practice to cool down before you put it back on.”  He looked her up and down.  Kitty’s cheeks were flushed and her pupils blown so wide there was only a thin rim of blue iris could be seen.  Her breasts were visibly heaving with her breath and even her pulse could be seen flickering in her throat.  Yes, she was ready for the next step.

He pulled her close, one arm circling behind her back, the other palpitating her breast.  His tail slipped under her shift and rose until it pressed against the juncture of her thighs.  “Yes, there’s a lot of moisture here.  A definite sign of hysteria.”  The spade stroked along her lower lips and Kitty melted into him.  She would have fallen if he hadn’t been supporting her.

Her eyes had slipped shut and her hands had come up to grip his vest in a desperate attempt to stay on her feet.  Which is of course why he chose that moment to finally slip the spade of his tail into her vagina, with the flexible cord pressed into the front.  It wasn’t deep, he had no desire to break her hymen at this point but the sensations had her losing all control, forcing her to depend on him for stability.  It took a few minutes to find the precise angle and pressure but as her gasps changed into moans, he knew he had located the right spot.

It only took a few minutes of the correct stimulation but then he felt her lower lips clench down on his tail and more fluid coat the end.  Careful massage prolonged the paroxysm, drawing long moans from his fiancee and had her inner walls quivering and milking the spade.  When he finally withdrew, she was completely limp in his arms.  He settled down in a chair to wait for her to regain her senses.

When blue eyes finally opened again he smiled at her.  “What was … what was that?”

“That was a hysterical paroxysm, the medically accepted cure for hysteria.”  His smile took on a slightly malicious edge.  (Well, more malicious than usual.)  “Also known as a female orgasm.”

She was so lovely, looking both confused and debauched.  “I didn’t think women could have orgasms.  I didn’t think they could have any pleasure in sex.”

“A lot of people say that … but my sister owns half a dozen brothels in London alone and I’m the one they summon when something goes wrong.  Female sexual pleasure is definitely a thing, although most won’t ever admit it.”  They stayed in that position for a second.  “So do you feel better now?”

The glare might have been more intimidating if she wasn’t in the midst of the afterglow.  “You know I do.”  She leaned back to stretch a little, inadvertently pressing herself against him.  He wasn’t quite able to resist rubbing up against her to relieve the mounting pressure.

“Oh,” she looked surprised but not shocked.  “Do you want me to return the favor?”

Well, perhaps she wasn’t completely ignorant of marital duties.  And yes, he did want that.  But regretfully he said, “I think we’ve strained the bounds of propriety as it is.  I’ll take care of myself later.  In the meantime, there’s some water for you to wash up in and you should get dressed and Wade will see you home.”  She nodded and slipped behind the screen while he left to search for Wade.

When he found his valet/butler/cleanser, the man looked him up and down and gave him a smug smile.  “Finally getting some?  And here I thought the author was going to make you celibate for the whole two years.”

“Wade … “ Darkholme gave up trying to understand the man’s mind.  “Kitty needs to be home before dark.  Please get the carriage out to bring her home.”  Then he left to attend to himself.

“Her house is literally across the street, she can’t walk herself home?”  The deformed man shook his head and sought out the stables.  But before entering he turned and addressed thin air.

“You know, author, if you keep creating interludes like this, none of your audience is going to mind delaying the last part.  Gonna do one for Wagner next?”

* * *

_A/N:[The song Kitty’s playing.](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DShTa_FTmXTo&t=ZDIzNmFiMDIwYzE4OGYzNjFlNDZkYTVlOGE5NmVmMWQ2MWQ3OTUwYyxPUzhlS2R1WQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AeH7nodgqH_kb6sBE80MicQ&p=http%3A%2F%2Fdjinmer4.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F180259764768%2Finterlude-hysteria-jh-au&m=1)_


	6. Journey's End

For the past few weeks, Wagner and Darkholme had been closeting themselves in the basement laboratory.  Kitty had spoken to Anna-Marie about it and had been reassured that they were simply working together on a project.  But the tension around the ginger’s eyes did little to convince Kitty of the lie.  And when she went over, she only saw Wagner briefly.  He looked terrible, distracted and feverish, and rather than being impeccably dressed, as usual, his clothes had clearly been worn for several days.  But no one, not Wade, nor Marie nor Wagner would tell her anything.

It came to a head one night when she heard pebbles being tossed at her window.  Looking down, she saw Wade, gesturing for her to follow him.  Kitty quickly pulled on her ‘newsboy’ outfit and slithered down the tree to join the Darkholmes’ butler.  “What happened?” she asked.

“We don’t know.  But whatever’s bothering the two of them, it’s getting worse.  They’ve skipped their meals the past few days, and you know what they say.  Civilization’s only three missed meals from anarchy.”

“I don’t know anyone who says that.”

“The author got it off a webcomic.”  Wade ignored Kitty’s incredulous stare.  ( _What’s a webcomic?)_  and continued talking.  “Anyway, Rogue wants to break down the door.”

“And you figured I would do less damage?”

“You’d make an excellent thief.”  They entered the mansion through the servants’ entrance and made their way to the basement.  Even outside the heavy, hardwood door, Kitty could hear frantic footsteps and the sound of heavy glassware shattering.  Marie passed her a knife and a pistol (”Just in case he’s out of his mind on drugs.”) and the younger girl started to phase through the thick wood.

Inside everything was a mess.  There was shattered glass all over the floor, and brazier near blazing out of control and papers scattered everywhere, with notes written in Darkholme’s hand.  Standing at the center was … she initially thought it was Darkholme based on the bright red scar she could see.  Then he turned, and to her surprise, the figure’s right eye was the bright yellow of Wagner.  The two stared at each other for a moment, then a twisted smirk crossed the man’s face.  “Ah, so I see Wade, the fool, cannot be trusted in these matters,” he said in Darkholme’s rough voice.

Then a convulsion passed over his features, and Wagner’s smooth voice came, with tears running down the right side of his face.  “This was ill-done by all of you.  You should never have involved an innocent in this business.”  His right hand rose and pointed to a sheet of paper on the laboratory table.  It also alerted Kitty to the gun he was holding.  “Don’t be alarmed.  Everything will be over soon and that paper there explains everything.”

Making her decision, Kitty reached behind her and unlocked the door, doing her best to thrust it open from the awkward angle.  After that, she immediately dived for the man (Darkholme?  Wagner?  It didn’t matter.)  The hand holding the gun rose but never pointed in her direction, rather wavering in the direction of the man’s head.  Behind her, she heard Wade run in, and then she had her hands on the gun.  Rather than wrestle the indigo man for the weapon, she simply phased it out of his hands and backed away as fast as possible.  Then Wade was there, binding the man’s hands behind his back.

Imminent threat dealt with, Kitty looked at the three (Rogue had followed Wade inside while Kitty was trying to seize the gun).  “What on earth is going on here?”

The blue man laughed.  She couldn’t tell if it was Darkholme or Wagner doing the action.  “Read the letter I wrote you.  It will tell you everything.”

Kitty went over to the table.  Rogue reached out as if to stop her but her hand fell well short and she made no other movements.  Kitty ripped open the sealed envelope with her name on the front.

‘ _Meine liebling_ ,

If there is any justice in the world, by the time you shall read this I will be beyond any help of recovery.  My first confession to you should be the most horrendous and everything stems for this.  Kitty, I’m not a real person.  Kurt Wagner, despite what you have seen and experienced with your own eyes, does not exist.  Oh, he has a birth certificate and a diploma but you know how easily my family could forge such documents.  No, there is no Kurt Wagner.  Instead, he is merely a creation of Kurt Darkholme, a phantom conjured by modern chemistry.  The actual formula is well documented and the final version is contained in the safe should you be curious, but for the sake of this discussion, the actual means and method are irrelevant.  Suffice to say, Darkholme takes a cordial of ruby appearance and foul taste and with ten minutes wait, his scars disappear, his eyes change and Wagner stands in his place.

The second confession is the cause of the first.  You have been told that the Darkholmes seek to marry your family for the sake of reputation.  That is true but not the whole of it.  Specifically, they seek to conceal Darkholme’s crimes.  They have told you he is a dealer in the more sordid cocaine, opium and heroin and this is true.  But this is only a sideline.  Darkholme’s real profession is a notorious assassin.  Although Scotland Yard has not yet put together the multiple murders he’s performed since moving to London, I assure you they reach all levels of British society, from humble washerwomen to Sir Danvers Carew, MP, who was your father’s friend.  But it was only a matter of time.  The assassin Nightcrawler had to flee Munich after a recent mishap gave him the blood-red scar on his face.  It could not be concealed for long with any surety.  So instead he created the formula.  With a new face, a new name and a wife of impeccable reputation, he could start again in London with his enemies none the wiser.

Which brings me to the last confession.   _Meine liebe_ , they did not count on my existence.  The stronger formula was expected to be long lasting so that Wagner could live his life with you while Darkholme occasionally popping off every other month to commit another crime.  I was not supposed to develop my own personality, never mind my own conscience.  I know Darkholme receives little but scant images and impressions from my time in the sun, but I remember every action he takes in the dark.  And Kitty, the blood that stains his hands, not even the entire ocean would be able to wash it off.

I can’t live like this.  I’ve tried to kill Darkholme with the formula, tried to make it stronger so that he could be buried forever.  But no matter how hard I try, it eventually wears off.  And he rises to the surface and the blood flows again.  So I’ve come to the conclusion that the only way to stop the killing and to keep you safe, is to destroy ourselves entirely.

Don’t mourn for me,  _liebe_.  In Darkholme’s will, there will be money left to your family, enough to pay off the mortgage completely and give you a nice dowry as well.  That should be sufficient for you to find another husband after a suitable period of mourning for your fiancee.  I’m sure Wade, Rogue, and Mystique will come up with an adequate excuse for my demise.  They won’t dare try this scheme with you again.  Avoid them from now on and you will come through this situation with your soul intact.  All I ask is that you say a prayer for my soul in Hell every so often.

Love,  
Wagner’

Kitty raised her eyes to the other three people in the room.  “Is it true?”  Rogue held out her hand and the brunette put the letter in it.  After taking a few moments to read it, the older woman nodded.  “Every word is true.  But Kitty, it’ll be alright.  We’ll scrap that plan.  Darkholme will stop using the formula, clearly its flawed and defective in some way.  There’s no need to worry.  We’ll take care of you and your family’s future will be secure.”

Kitty walked over to Wade and his prisoner.  “Are you going to slap him?” asked the Canadian.

“No.  Who is in control?”  The mercenary/servant looked down.  “Wagner,” he stated confidently.

Kitty knelt down and cradled his face in her hands.  Tears ran freely from golden eyes.  “Thank you for trying.  But if you had asked my opinion, I would have agreed to follow Darkholme’s original idea.”

“But why-”

“Kurt,” she whispered softly.  “Yes, Darkholme will continue to kill people if you both continue to live.  But if you’re dead, you can’t do anything to atone for his actions.  Isn’t repentance a good enough reason to live?”  Then even more softly so that not even Wade could hear her, “Aren’t I a good enough reason to live?”

Yellow eyes frantically searched her face.  Then all the tension went out of his body and he sagged into her, crying so hard he could barely breathe.  Kitty looked up and nodded to Wade.  He let go and she caught the older man, controlling their descent to the floor.  She continued to comfort him as he sobbed his heart out on her bosom.  Wade and Rogue exchanged expressions of relief and left the two of them alone.

* * *

_Epilogue(s):_

_“_ Well, I suppose there’s very little question that she’s Darkholme’s.”

“Azurites are more common on the continent than this cold island, but there aren’t _that_ many in Bavaria and Nils was too young to have been fathering children when she was born.” agreed Wagner.

“She’s a lovely child though,” Kitty stated, reaching up to fondle the dark curls on the girl’s head.  “Very sweet and polite.  I wouldn’t have believed she was Amanda’s if you hadn’t told me.  Although she picked a terrible name for her daughter.”

“I know.”  Kurt shifted the girl around so she would rest more easily on his shoulder.  “What type of mother names her daughter Blue?”

“Speaking of Amanda, whatever did happen to Ms. Sefton?”

Kurt tilted his head to look at her over the girl’s hair.  They had agreed to meet up for a promenade after Mass on Sunday.  Wagner’s niece had been introduced to Lady Katherine and the two had actually gotten along well.  Kitty adored the younger girl and in return, the little one had been in complete awe of the ‘ _‘schöne Frau’._ Unfortunately the six-year-old just didn’t have the stamina to keep up with the two adults and had to be carried back by her relative.   _“_ What do you think happened to her?  You know what happens to those who anger my cousin.”

“Hmm, we’ll have to do something about that.  We can’t pay her back, so we’ll have to pay it forward.”

“I’ve … been meaning to talk to you about that.  She _is_  a relation, and I want to do better for her than her own mother did.  But I can also understand if you don’t want to live with your late fiancee’s daughter in the house.”

A cabriolet came up behind.  As they separated to let it pass, Kitty opened her fan wide and glanced at her beau from over the spread leaves.  Once the cab had passed they continued their walk in silence.  As they approached the square, she began speaking again.  “I take it the first possibility is to take her in as your ward.  What’s the other option?”

“Well, she’s just old enough to go to boarding school.  I’m not very familiar with the system here in England so it’ll take some time to find one that I approve of, but you didn’t exactly agree to live with Darkholme’s illegitimate child when your parents signed that contract.”

They walked on and just as they reached the gate in front of the Pryde estate, Kitty turned back to the two blue folks and sighed.  Then she smiled gently and said, “Of course she can stay, Kurt.  Her mother’s sins are not hers.  Hopefully, we can raise her to be a better person than Amanda.”

“Thanks, Kitty.  That means a lot to me.”

* * *

“Well, here it is.”  Teresa Pryde finally finished hauling out her old wedding gown.  

“Oh my,” gasped Anna-Marie.  “It’s quite the relic isn’t it.”  Then she frowned.  “Shouldn’t the color be white?  ‘Married in white, you’ve chosen right/Married in green, ashamed to be seen,’ isn’t it?”

Countess Teresa continued to check the fabric for moth holes and other stains.  “It was remade from my mother’s own wedding gown.  Back then, pale green was the style, not white.”  Satisfied with the fabric’s integrity, the lady looked at the complete design.  “A few markings, but fortunately it was meant to go over a crinoline.  There’s enough fabric that we can cut away those parts and still have enough left to nip and tuck it over a bustle.”

The ginger cleared her throat, “If there’s an issue, my cousin would be happy to pay for the bride’s dress- did I say something wrong?”  Kitty and her mother were staring at her in horror.  Even Tabitha, lounging on the couch was looking at her with wide eyes.  The blonde piped up, “The groom is never allowed to pay for the bride’s clothing before marriage.”

“Why not?”

“Well,” Kitty hedged.  “It would imply that the bride is a … that she has no standards and is willing to marry anyone who’ll throw money in her direction.”  Marie side-eyed her, clearly knowing what the younger girl had been about to say.  “I see.”

“Now that they’re engaged, he can give her jewelry, but not clothing until after the ceremony,” clarified Tabitha.

“Don’t tell my br- my cousin that,” mused the redhead, tactfully ignoring her mistake.  “He’ll have her draped in diamonds and sapphires before you know it.”

“That would actually help,” Teresa Pryde held up her old veil.  Unfortunately, unlike the dress, it hadn’t withstood the test of time, and the lace was badly stained.  “Oh dear.  I don’t think we can afford the silk to replace this.”

The four women looked at the veil.  “Maybe cotton gauze?” was Tabitha’s suggestion.  “It would be lighter and cheaper and would look almost the same.”

Marie cleared her throat.  “If you don’t mind, I could lend you the veil I wore for my wedding.  It’s not quite paying for something if you have to return it afterward, and it’s me doing the lending, not Kurt.  But I still want you to have something from the family.  So would this be acceptable?”

Lady Pryde smiled gratefully.  “Yes, that would be perfect.”  She turned to her daughter.  “Well, now we have your something old and something borrowed.  Now you need is something new and something blue.”

“Your husband!”  The three other women remained silent as they contemplated Tabitha’s suggestion.  Kitty shook her head forcefully, violently enough to send her curls flying in the air.  “Tabby, we are not declaring my husband to be my new, blue thing, even if they’re both true.”

“Yes, we’d never hear the end of it from my cousin.”  After a moment, the American spoke again.  “You said the groom may purchase jewelry for the bride, right?”

“We did,” stated Teresa smoothly.

“How about we let Kurt buy her tiara?  I’ll go with him to make sure the one he gets isn’t too gaudy.”  Kitty looked over the procuress’s elegant black and white outfit, then nodded.  “Okay, I trust you.”

“Diamonds, right?  And sapphires?”

“Pearls,” Teresa insisted.  “After getting engaged at fourteen but only marrying now that she’s twenty, I don’t want more unsavory rumors getting out.”

“But Lady Terry, it’s not like anyone knew she was engaged until recently,” the only blonde in the room protested.

But the lady was firm on the issue.  “Six years is a troublingly long time for an engagement.  This wedding will be as respectable as possible, given the circumstances.”  The oldest woman ignored Marie and Kitty’s protest that the engagement to Mr. Wagner had only been for a year, and only after the full two years of mourning for Dr. Darkholme.

“Diamonds and pearls it is then,” Marie settle the argument, jotting down notes.  “Shaped like orange blossoms?”

“No, we have an arrangement with the Lensherrs for that.  Real ones, from the tree in their greenhouse.”

Tabitha leaned back in a sulk.  “So Kitty, that takes care of everything except for your something blue.  And since you insist it won’t be your husband-”

“Mother, do you think we could afford a new pair of shoes for the wedding?”

“I believe we could,” said Teresa after going over their finances in her mind.  “Since the wedding and reception will happen in the Darkholme manor and we’re not paying for the dress, veil or tiara, we could afford some new shoes for you.”

“Aw, I was going to suggest that-”

“I get blue underwear?”  Kitty’s voice was so dry it almost got the sun to peek out from behind the ever-present clouds of the English spring.  Almost.  “I know you Tabby!  And no, nothing that scandalous.”  At Teresa Prydes stubborn nod, the other girl subsided.

Rogue, in the meantime, had sidled over to the bride-to-be’s side to whisper in her ear.  “Now I know what my wedding present to you will be.  Kurt won’t be able to keep his hands off you once he sees what you’ll be wearing under the dress.”

Kitty turned as red as her friend’s hair.

* * *

Kitty wasn’t sure what had woken her up at first.  The empty bed was no surprise, she knew her husband was out on one of his bimonthly trips.  It’s only when she’d cleared her eyes of sleep that she noticed the dark figure, illuminated by the full moon, watching her.  “Husband?”

The man straightened up and she caught two flashes of red in the gloom.  “Darkholme.”

The shadowed figure nodded to her, and she lifted the blanket to invite him into bed.  The assassin slid in, with a predatory grace very different from her husband’s airy agility.  “I’m surprised to see you.”

Darkholme’s voice was deep and harsh.  She could hardly believe the same throat produced her husband’s light tenor.  “The target was disappointingly easy this time.  I thought I’d use the free time to indulge myself.”

“You know you’re always welcome in my bed.”

“I don’t get many chances to see you at all.  Asleep or awake, I didn’t mind.”  Under the duvet, he shifted around, quickly ridding himself of his clothes.  “I don’t think Wagner likes sharing.  He hoards his memories of you like a dragon with its gold.”

She waited until he was nude then pulled him closer, kissing him lightly on the lips.  “You don’t have to worry.  He’s made me very happy, despite his quirks.”

“Such as?”

Kitty said nothing, instead choosing to explore Darkholme’s body again.  A few cuts and scratches, and the permanent scar over his left eye.  It was strange how he and Wagner never shared the scars and marks left by their lives.  Her husband’s face was unscarred, his hands lacked the callouses and burn marks left by a lifetime’s practice of chemistry.  But then again, she thought as she ran her hands up the German’s back to pull him closer, Wagner also had his own trauma.  The strong back under her palms was smooth and unmarked, lacking the whip lashes her husband would renew on the morrow.

Darkholme was easily distracted by her welcoming body.  Not that they had sex all the time when he was awake, but it’s not like they could go out and do anything else in the middle of the night, and Kitty was determined to make the most of their time together.  For all their insistence that they were one and the same, Darkholme and Wagner rarely liked talking about the other who shared the body.

It was always hardest to believe they were the same person in bed.  Wagner’s touch was rough and possessive, pressure always just shy of bruising or hurting her.  He was forceful when he took her, almost as if he wanted to grind their relationship into her very bones.  Darkholme, on the other hand, was surprisingly gently, his touch delicate and reverent.  She enjoyed both of them, in very different ways.

Kitty slowly stroked downwards, gliding her hands with the grain of Darkholme’s fur.  He sighed, muscles relaxing under her touch, while his tail quickly undid the buttons of her nightdress. He ran into a problem when he wanted to keep touching her but still wanted to get her clothes off.  Kitty solved this by phasing through the dress.

The young woman’s hands found the rings that pierced his nipples and toyed with them gently.  The indigo man’s pants changed to gasps and whimpers, pushing his chest toward her touch.  “Oh,  _bitte, liebling_  … “  She rewarded him by sucking on his neck, right where the pulse was.  He moaned and kissed her hair, one of his three-fingered hands gliding down her back to trace the bottom of her ribs.  The other caressed her breasts, then toyed and tugged at her nipples until they were hard peaks.

As she continued her explorations down, tracing over his abs, then finally reaching her destination.  He was already fully hard and ready for her, precum beading on the tip of his cock.  “Wait,” he moaned, even has his hips bucked into her hand.  “Let me prepare you.”  The hand at her back slipped forward to press between her lower lips.  Now it was her turn to moan and writhe until she clenched down over his finger, riding her orgasm shamelessly.  When he finally withdrew she whimpered, still not completely satisfied.  “You’re ready,” he whispered breathlessly.

His cock was thicker than his fingers, and she could feel her walls squeeze down on him, still sensitive from her last orgasm.  Slowly, slowly he eased himself in, occasionally pausing to catch his breath and regain control.  With Wagner, she usually made it a tease, deliberately tightening on him until he couldn’t wait any longer, thrusting desperately inside.  With Darkholme, she held her breath and let him go in at his own pace, let him make it last.  She couldn’t quite help herself at the end, clenching down hard as he was finally fully hilted.  “Are you trying to kill me?” he joked.

“You’d die happy,” she responded.

She panted as he remained still, feeling herself grow wetter at the heat teasing her inside.  Only then did he start moving, building up from a slow pace until he was hammering her.  One thick finger slipped down to play with her clit and then she was coming again.  Her hips bucked and she could feel every inch inside her.  Then there was a slight swell of his member and Darkholme erupted, shots of hot semen flooding her cervix.

Darkholme pressed a kiss to her hair again, while wrapping an arm around her shoulders to keep her near.  “I want to fall asleep like this, still inside you.”

Kitty owed Tabby another box of chocolates.  “Alright, but careful.  We’re probably not going to wake up like this.”

“That’s fine.  I just want to feel connected to you before Wagner reclaims his place.”

* * *

_9 months later_

_“_ Congratulations, it’s a boy!”

“Are they both alright?”

“Both mother and son are healthy.  Just give the nurses a few minutes to clean up.”  Kurt Wagner sighed in relief.  He didn’t know how he’d live if Kitty was gone.  Their child wouldn’t be enough to keep him grounded here.  Dr. Essex took Kurt’s arm and led him off into a private alcove.  “There’s something you should know before you go in.”

Kurt tensed up again.  “Is there something wrong with the child?”

“Not in the way that you think.  But you should prepare yourself.  The boy is very clearly an Azurite … but he has  _red_  eyes.”

The German let out a sigh of relief.  “Is that all?”

Dr. Essex looked surprised.  “You’re not suspicious at all?”

“The only other Azurite my wife has been in contact with without a chaperone is my aunt.  Surely your not suggesting my _aunt_ got my wife pregnant?”

“Your cousin Nils-”

“Last visited over a year ago for the wedding.  And his eyes are gold too.  Seriously, Nathan, you’re too paranoid.”

The older man let go of his arm.  “I saw the eyes and I just thought it was weird.”

“Did you forget that my cousin had red eyes?  It’s not that unusual.”

“So red eyes are recessive?  I thought it was the other way around.”

“I don’t think it’s quite that clean-cut.   _Aber, ja_ , nothing odd about a yellow-eyed Azurite having a  _kinder_  with red eyes.  Now, can I go see my wife?”  The Englishman glanced over to see the nurses and midwives leaving the room with the stained linens.  One of them gave him a brief nod.

“Go ahead.”

Kurt entered the confinement room and saw Kitty look up at him and smile.  The nurses had washed and cleaned her and there was no trace of blood in the room.  Kitty had been washed too but was still sweaty and her hair was tangled.  “You look beautiful,” he said and it was probably the most honest thing he had ever spoken.

“Flattery won’t get you into my bed any earlier than two months.  Maybe longer depending on how long it takes me to forget about the pain.”

“It wasn’t flattery,” he kissed her sweaty forehead and sat down to accept the tiny navy bundle in her arms.  Three fingers on each hand, two toes on each foot, each one a work of art in miniature.  “He’s almost perfect.”

“Almost?”  Despite her fatigue, there was a slight edge in her tone.  Kurt looked up and smiled widely at her. 

“Almost.  He doesn’t really look like a Carmen, does he?”

Kitty laughed.  “No, I suppose not.  Father’s going to be disappointed.  Got any ideas for names?”

“I’ll think about it.”


End file.
